2013.08.06 - No, I won't do that.
It's a long ride down in the elevator, not so much in time, as in the standing there doing nothing. There's no change in sound or lighting, but the ride is long enough to leave one realizing quickly that despite how high up in the towers they were prior to the elevator ride they've long since left ground floor behind. And the inertia has changed at lest twice as well, moving laterally as well as vertically. Which was disorienting as hell. "We're here." says the man in the suit who's face was plastered across last months Time Magazine. He steps out and walks down a long empty hall, his patent leather shoes clicking and echoing in the concrete path. Something about it is off though. The walls are also some sort of metal, as well as concrete, and there are unintelligable glyphs set into them at odd intervals. Lights ignite along the floor, lighting up the walk which allows one to see the ceiling a solid twenty feet overhead. No wonder it echos. He pauses before a giant pair of metal doors with warnings all over them that take up the entirety of the end of the hall, obviously this hall was built speficially to contain just them. "Welcome to the TEACH." he says as he turns around, the motion causes the white on beige suit to disappear as it reconfigures itself into his more traditional military style costume and mask with the armor plating visible, "You and I have a difference of opinion we need to clarify. An important one. This is where we do it." "If you're talking about who should have won Idol last season, I frankly didn't watch a bit of it." Spider-Man turns his head to look at Magik before back at the man. He gives little reaction to the reconfiguration of the suit because his head is constantly turning on a swivel taking in all of the information from all sides. After a moment he whispers to Illyana. "Teach? Like...school? I'm on summer break." Illyana Rasputina's hood is down, but she's dressed in the white cloak and tunic that she wears for her costume. People always expect black from the demon sorceress but for some reason, she wears white. As they finally comes to a stop and Jack's clothing shifts, her arms cross before her and she has that slight frown she gets sometimes, when she's not entirely sure how she feels about something. Feelings must annoy her so, hence the frown. She glances from Jack over to Spidey. No one else knows who he is. She's kept that secret for him. But no one else cares as much about how he'll react, either. The joking whisper gets a slight roll of her eyes, but she's somewhat used to his flippant manner. "It's an ackronym." She explains, not trying to tell him to 'be serious'. Spartan doesn't smile. "Void." he says, and there's a soft hum before the doors begin to move. Not open, move. The center section spins, something moves laterally, there's a sort of swirling shimmery thing going on, and all the while one can hear bolts, presumably large one, thudding out of the way inside the door. Presidents don't have bunks with doors like this. Then is splits open surprisingly quickly and silently, without a rumble of bearings or a squeal of metal. "This is the training, exercise, and combat hall. The team has begun calling it the TEACH. It's where you learn lessons, and today the lesson is that we're not heroes." he walks through the doors and out onto a desolate scene. The ground is black, hard, and oddly jagged. There are deceptibe cracks and fissues in the surface, and through a few of them comes the red glow of something one can only assuume is lava. One assumes that because this place is HOT. So so so so hot. The crust is sharp enough that like corral it will destroy any skin that touches it that isn't protected. The first person to reach down and rub their hand across that would find that out quickly. Spartan steps out, his foot falls leaving cracked steps in his wake, plain footprints one could follow if they were inclined to track him. Of course he weighs more then your average person so... "We are now very far from home. Don't die." he turns to face Spiderman, "Oh, I should warn you. It's not uninhabited." and now he offers a smile. It's at that point that every Spidey Sense Nerending Peter possesses goes haywire. Spider-Man tilts his head as the walls begin to move, and centers begin to shimmer, sway, spin, and jut laterally. He stands there, sort of surprised at the grandeur, like a puppy who is seeing something for the first time and can't quite process it. The technology needed to do something like this is vast, expensive, and custom made. When Jack says something about not being a hero, Spidey turns to regard him with large white, lens-eyes, but he simply doesn't respond. When things get hot in there, Spider-Man looks for a good place to stand and crouches in a defensive pose, with legs splayed to the sides and a hand to brace himself low. "Yeah, it appears to be very inhabited. It doesn't feel very safe in here." Illyana Rasputina strides in after Spartan without apprehension or hesitation even if she doesn't know where they're going. At some point you just have to trust your teammates to give you warnings if they're needed. A hot wind blows Magik's cloak back and she lifts a hand to shield her eyes as she looks out over the blasted landscape. "Looks like home." She jokes. "Hello." The voice comes from behind them, making them turn. It's high and young, and the owner matches that description. It's a little boy, maybe nine years old with worn overalls and sneakers. He's smiling, flashing oh-so-cute dimples and his blue eyes are as bright as his smile. Dark hair a little too long falls into his eyes and he shoves it back with a small, chubby hand. "Have you come to play with me? I've been so lonely." The smile slips a bit into a quivering pout at the idea that they might not be there to entertain him. The doors slide shut with the same speed and silence that they opened, and they vanish. Welcome to the holo-deck... ... ...right? "You are two thousand four hundred and seventy-three light years from your homeworld as you reckon distance. This is not a simulation, these are not robots, this world is not a hologram. This is a place. That is Eric. Back on your homeworld he has two siblings, a mother who left him when he was young and a father who's raised the three children on his own. He's a good man, and after this happened I saw to it he received a job at Halo. It was all I could do. Eric, this is Spider-Man, the super hero from New York. You two should get along famously. Magik, don't interfere. He has to understand." he's been so formal all this time, so steady and soldierly, in his bearing, his tone, everything about Spartan screams that his namesake is accurate. But there, in the last sentence, there's a softness, a regret he can't quite contain. Spider-Man had been under the assumption that this had all been a fantastically real hologram. To hear that it's real both confuses him, and explains his spidey senses tingling like mad. "Understand?" Spider-Man stays in his defensive stance, not moving. His voice almost cracks as his head swivels towards Illyana. "Understand what? Illyana Rasputina's expression has gone dark, brow furrowed and lips set into a thin frown. No, she's not happy with this but she's also not moving. Or saying anything. Seeing Eric though, the look she cuts back to Spartan is that hard, glacial ice that can cut down to the soul. Of course, Spartan's a robot. Does he have one? The little boy, Eric starts to walk over towards the three of them, his attention turning down to step over some of the uneven footing so he doesn't trip and then he gives a little hop down from one of the rocks, arms coming out to his side to keep his balance. He gives another little hop on one foot, arms pinwheeling a bit as he looks over to Spider-Man with that broad, dimpled smile. "Hi Spider-Man! I saw you in the news." He strikes a pose, stretching his arms out in front of him with fingers curled awkwardly in, like he's shooting webbing. "Pew! pew!" Spartan returns Illyana's stare, "You cannot protect him forever. He has to understand. You're not mad at me, you're mad that I'm right." he turns back to watch Spidey and the boy, "He has to grow up, and if he wishes to help us, then it has to be now. War is no place for children." "Hi kid," Spider-Man says, doing his best to remain cheerful in what is otherwise a very concerning situation. Illyana and Jack are talking weird. This boy seems nice, but he's settin' off all the alarms. None of it makes sense. "Look, guys, I realize I'm kind of a lone wolf, but 7th grade band and high school gym class taught me that communication was key to teamwork. So...what's going on?" "He can help without you needing to drag him through the mud with us." Magik shoots back to Jack, still scowling but it's lost some of its heat. Or is that chill? Eric keeps walking over towards Spider-Man. "You're a hero, right? Are you here to take me to see my daddy? He holds his hands up towards Spider-Man, like he wants to get picked up. "I miss my daddy." Spider-Sense? Oh yeah. It's soverynothappy. Spartan watches for a moment, the interaction between the two, "Can he?" he asks softly. "What if he hessitates? What then? What if he's not built for it and I take him out there? What if he takes just a fraction of a second to long, waits to long, can't do it? What if They take him? Are you willing to risk that? Because I am not." he stares at Illyana, "We. Are. Not. Heroes. We can't afford to be. He's a hero. I don't know if he can be what we need without putting himself at risk. Dying is inevitable, it's accepted, part of the job." he looks down at his hand and the 'skin' of it glows softly pink from some inner light, "But we both know there are worse things then dying. I don't think he does." Then he glances at Spider-Man, "Enough." his tone has one of command, and it's aimed at the boy. "That Spider-Man, is the Enemy. The boy has been taken by one of the Daem, an Engineer of sorts, not one of their soldier class. The boy /was/ Eric, now he is something else. If you make a mistake, if you're to slow, if you hessitate, the monster will leave it's host and occupy you, because you are stronger, faster, better then the boy. I left it on this world with four others of it's kind, it killed and ate them. Imagine what if could do if it took you. If it got back home. In your body. Your gifts, unleashed on the world without restraint, by a being without an ounce of compassion or empathy inside it. It would know your secrets, hunt down your family, make you watch while it toyed with them for days, weeks, keeping them alive..." the longer he talks, the softer his words become, as if he's not really there anymore. He falls silent after a time, quiet as he just stares at nothing, "You can stop it when it is dead. Until it's dead, there is no way to contain it forever. No jail, no prison that could hold it... So solve the problem Spider-Man, solve it, and you can go. Might I suggest killing it." Spartan pauses and sighs, "Magik, the session is yours. I apparently have to go contain a radiation leak in the lab," robots aren't bothered by radiation after all, "or so Void tells me." he quiet for a moment, "If he can't solve it, let him out. No hard feelings, no nothing. We may even keep him as reserve for non-Daem related missions... It doesn't mean he's weak, or that he's to soft. Just means he's a hero. No shame in that." The doors appear and Spartan steps through them quickly before they vanish once more. "Make sure he knows that." And he's gone. Spider-Man watches Spartan leave and slowly looks back at Illyana. "I won't kill him. You know that." He looks back at the boy and is struck by the indecisiveness washing over him. He won't attack the boy, but he won't embrace him either. Illyana Rasputina hasn't moved, arms still crossed before her. She watches Spartan leave even as Eric keeps walking towards Spider-Man to try to get him to pick him up. The blonde sighs as Spider-Man makes his pronouncement. "You can't save the kid. He's worse than dead. At least if he were just daed he wouldn't be a risk to anyone else anymore." Illyana's tone is... almost tired. When Spider-Man keeps moving away from Eric, the terribly cute little boy frowns. "I want you to play with me." Then his features twist and shift, teeth lengthening into razors as long as a hand and fingers extending into claws as the boy leaps at Spider-Man, his voice gone low and raspy. "And I'm hungry." "Sorry kid!" Spider-Man says as he leaps out of the way, turning on his knee, and firing two webs towards the boy. One is aimed at his face, while the other at his feet. His hope is to incapacitate. To float and sting. "I'd be careful on telling me what I can and can't do, Magik." The webbing hits its mark, but the kid... well, possessed kid isn't slowed down too much as those long claws work on slicing through the stuff with a snarl. "Well, when you find out feel free to clue me in." Illyana says with that defensive sarcasm she leans towards. "Look, Spartan would wait a while, see if you come to your senses and all that but I know you. You're not gonna kill him while he's in the kid. Hell, you wouldn't kill him if he were in a serial killer." There's no accusation, just a statement of fact, not even really any levity. "Let's just... go home." The blonde sorceress touches something on her wrist to alert Void to bring the doorway back when the Daem finally finishes tearing itself loose. The small head swivels, turning towards the white-clad woman and in an inhuman blur of movement leaps towards Magik. "NOOO!" Spider-Man yells as he flings himself in between Illyana and the Daem and throws a super-strong punch towards it, attempting to knock it clear. "Magik!" Spider-Man exclaims. The door appears with a *fzzzzzak!* as Illyana's head turns with Spider-Man's warning in time to see him punch the kid, that fang-filled mouth snapping over to the side with a *crack* as it goes tumbling off to the side and skidding across the coral-sharp ground and leaving red in it's wake. "Spit and Hades!" Magik exclaims, backpeddaling a bit and surging back forward to grab Spider-Man's shoulders and pull him towards the door with her. "C'mon." She could kill the thing herself, but figures that'd put even more of a damper on things with Peter. The kid pushes itself up, blood dripping from flesh that's been sliced to ribbons, all that cute destroyed by the demonic teeth and claws and the shift of the eyes and the slasher-victim skin. "Don't leave me... So hungry..." "Oh my g--!" Spider-Man's voice is drowned out as he gets pulled towards the door, out into the cooridor, and into relative safety. "What the hell was that?!" he asks Illyana incredulously. As they stumble through the door, it seals beind them, locks upon locks upon locks. Illyana doesn't let go of Spider-Man even as they make it through, her grip on him tight. "A kid. A kid that's still alive with a Daemonite posessing and controlling him." She says quietly. "Yeah," Spider-Man responds as he shuffles along. "You guys in this building are so short and dour with the explanations. What's a daemonite and why the hell did you guys bring me there?" "They're an alien race that Spartan's people have been at war with for like, thousands of years. They can possess someone and it's undetectible. They can move from person to person and they're interested in taking over the planet. Once they've gotten ahold of someone, we can't get them back out. All we can do is lock them up or kill them." As to the why? Illyana sighs. "Spartan needed to know if you could pull the trigger or if you'd hesitate in a fight." "You say hesitate like it's a weakness," Spider-Man says with a sigh. "I'd argue that discretion is an important part of what I do. And, I don't kill." "Yeah, see? Difference of opinion." Magik says, trying to levity. "Look. Let's just... get out of here." She shifts her hold to around Spider-Man's waist and summons a Stepping Disk, taking them away from Halo towers and off to her rooms in Limbo. At least there, she knows his secret ID is safe. "I know. I know you don't kill." She offers him a forced smile. Spider-Man reaches up to the top of his head and rubs it in confusion. "So what you're saying is that your friends aren't going to care for me much." He chuckles, "It's always something with us, isn't it?" "Hey, it's not like we're trigger happy or something." Illyana points out, dropping down to sit on her bed heavily. "Superboy hates killing too." But it sounds like he'll do the deed if it's called for. "Most of the rest of us are a bit more... pragmatic." She admits, plucking at the comforter. "They're not gonna be all on your case about it. Spartan's right. You're a hero." She shrugs slightly. "Me... Not so much." "I am a hero. I've never thought of it as a bad thing before. The way he said it...it was almost with disdain." Spider-Man sits on the bed next to her, away from the plucking. "I think you're a swell hero," he says cheesily. Illyana Rasputina shakes her head, raeching up to peel the mask off as she looks at him. "No. Don't think that. That's not what he meant." She puts her legs over his, leaning into his side but not quite sitting in his lap. "He's been fighting this war a long, long time. And there isn't an end in sight. We need all the help we can get but we also know how important it is for there to be heroes. Real heroes like you. Not folks that dabble in it like me." She gives him a wan smile. "I'm already stained and tarnished. I can't help people be the best they can be." She leans in her chin on his shoulder. "But you can. You do." "So, I guess I'm confused. Do I need to change to become part of your crew? That Jack dude seemed to think so. I'm not sure I'd be down with killin' people. Specially kids," Spider-Man says, turning towards her. He seems pretty shaken up. Illyana Rasputina bends her knees, pulling herself closer to him as he turns towards her. Her gaze follows those big, white eyes on his mask but doesn't try to make him take it off. "We do a lot of other stuff too, which I think you'd be fine on." She refocuses on where his eyes should be, her manner solemn. "Are you OK with working with us? Knowing what we have to do? Because yeah, you can probably put the two and two together and know that I'd put the kid down if I needed to. To save others... and for him." "I've worked with murderers. I wouldn't call you guys murderers." Spider-Man is referring to Frank Castle, specifically. "I won't like it, but I won't stand in your way either. But I can't be expected to kill anyone." "We aren't." She assures him. Of Spidey not killing anyone? "Then don't." Illyana says, without any sort of sarcasm and her arms wind tight around him, which is a lot more snuggly than she normally gets when he's in costume. "I'm not going to ask you to change when you're not asking me to. It doesn't change the fact that I like knowing you've got my back and you know I've got yours." "I definitely do have yours. And I know you have mine." Spider-Man takes his mask with a swipe, revealing a must of sweaty chestnut hair. He smiles at her and kisses her softly. "Well. It is awfully cute." Illyana admits, eyes half-closing at the soft kiss. Then she wrinkles her nose a bit and chuckles. "You. Need a bath." She says of his sweatiness. "C'mon. I'll take you home, before I'm tempted to watch." Spidey makes a hurt face before leaning into smell himself. "Oh man. You're right." Category:Log